at least. One is bright as the sun with a voice like music tossing picked flowers into the wind runs laughing to the water’s edge and jumps in with glad splashing Sometimes he darkens over shadowed by the same old terror that seizes every perfect innocent who discovers this is a world of arbitrary death and no one can change that or stop it The other one of me is his father who cradles his head strokes his hair who has been defeated laid down his life so there is nothing more to do in the end but sit quietly and love
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Poems from Other Days
September 2021
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